


Late Nights

by carolferris



Series: The Bat and The Flash [2]
Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12787644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolferris/pseuds/carolferris
Summary: Barry loves to keep Bruce up at night.





	Late Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Translation into 中文 available: [Late Nights](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12919467) by [osdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/osdom/pseuds/osdom)
> 
> For imagery purposes, this is Bruce's room in the DCEU: https://pa1.narvii.com/6600/4edc7331927f4662a0984dd06d7b777a3280314d_hq.gif.

“Bruce?” Barry whispers.

Bruce doesn’t respond. He pretends to sleep; otherwise he _knows_ Barry will keep him up most of the night. Again.

“Bruce…” Barry whispers against his neck. After several attempts, he’d finally agreed to let Barry spoon him, with the one condition that they would actually get some _sleep_. Barry doesn’t seem to remember that, though. 

Bruce silently sighs. Ever since the war with Steppenwolf ended and he insisted the boy moved into his house – he wouldn’t let Barry stay in that dump in Central City one more goddamned second, that’s what – nights became longer and warmer in a way they hadn’t been in a while. Bruce didn’t realize how much he missed it: touch, affection, a warm body to hold on to when exhaustion hit at night and when the sun lit up the river in the morning, shining all its glory through the naked glass of his bedroom. Well, at least when he _managed_ to tire Barry out enough to get the little shit to sleep the whole night away. Bruce needs rest. He’s an old man, after all, and quite literally doesn’t have as much energy as Barry, the fastest young boy alive, does. 

“I know you’re awake, babe…” Barry’s lazy voice whispers as he plants a kiss to Bruce’s neck, voice softer than usual, body pressed up against Bruce’s, hands wrapped around his waist underneath the blankets. 

At the end, Bruce always gives in. Maybe that’s why Barry never gives up.

“What,” Bruce says as he turns to face the boy and rests a hand on his cheek. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Barry leans into the touch, bringing his own hand to Bruce’s wrist and shutting his eyes. He’s truly something... and Bruce is well and truly fucked. _Well. And. Truly. Fucked._

“What you just called me,” Bruce continues, tiredness in his voice as he caresses Barry’s hair. “ _Babe._ ”

Barry opens his eyes, dark eyelashes fanning out over a sparkling brown shade, noticeable even in the dark of the room. Bruce analyzes every detail: the arch of his nose, the sharp of his jawline, the curve of his lips, and everything about him is so damn pretty and _kissable_ , Bruce wonders how he survived forty five years without it. 

“You don’t like it?” Barry quietly asks, removing Bruce’s hands off of him and intertwining their fingers together, pressing their bodies so close that the tips of their noses touch as they feel each other’s breaths. Barry smells like Bruce’s mint soap and cologne and fresh tooth paste. 

Bruce rolls Barry onto his back and finally presses their lips together. The kiss starts slow, languid and careful, tongue sliding over tongue in a slow pace, and then Bruce starts working his way around the inside of the boy’s mouth, sucking until he’s breathing hard and Barry’s little gasps start sending signals straight down to his cock. Barry is more than eager to kiss back, even tries to gain dominance for a few moments, which Bruce carefully allows before taking the lead again, grinding down on the boy as he carves his nails into Bruce’s left bicep, feeling just how hard they both already are, only breaking away when Bruce starts to pepper Barry’s jaw with kisses and suck on his earlobe.

“Do it again,” Bruce whispers in his ear, voice deep and rough, almost Batman-like. 

Barry moves his hand from Bruce’s bicep and briefly places it on his crotch, causing the man to gasp as he sucks hard at the base of Barry’s neck. “ _Babe,_ ” Barry mockingly says as he pulls their faces close once again, the eye contact unsettling Bruce for a moment, a hunger building inside of him that results in both of them out of their clothes in a matter of seconds, Bruce letting out a deep sigh as he realizes Barry doesn’t have any underwear on. 

“Fuck, kid,” Bruce whimpers, more like a half-made sound, like he couldn’t keep it together even if he wanted to. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Bruce reaches for the bottle of lube on the nightstand – a permanent spot it has been sitting on for a while now, seeing as how often they have been using it – and starts rubbing his hands together to warm it up, then wraps them around their erections so he can jerk them both off at the same time. 

“Oh, fuck,” Barry says as Bruce gives it a first experimental thrust and proceeds to make a little helpless gasping sound, breath catching in his throat. Bruce does it again, gauging for Barry’s reaction as the boy opens his mouth - forming a little “O” - and lets it stays that way as they keep intense eye contact. The sensation is unbelievably good. 

“Babe, that’s so good,” Barry gasps and they harmoniously groan when Bruce thrusts for a third time, soon enough finding a slow burning rhythm that causes Bruce to lose track of everything except how good it feels, to fuck both their cocks into his fist, skins burning up against each other. Bruce feels like he could come just from that torturing pace and Barry’s breathless voice calling him _Babe_. The pleasure is overwhelming; Bruce feels like he could stay like this forever. Screw dying at the hands of Gotham perps or apocalyptic gods, this is the perfect ending. This is all he could possibly ask for. 

“I- Holy shit,” Barry moans, sweat breaking across his forehead. “Please,” Barry pleads, and everything’s perfect, so slick and wet and smooth, he doesn’t have to beg again, Bruce goes faster and they kiss – a mess of lips, tongues and teeth – Barry cries into Bruce’s mouth and it feels _incredible_. 

Barry’s breath hitches as he locks his gaze with Bruce’s and starts to cum, that vision alone dragging Bruce over the edge as well, frantically jerking his hands and hips until his shoulder aches, the obscene slick of flesh against flesh and their combined pants the only audible sounds in the room, hot spurts spilling all over Barry’s stomach. Bruce lets himself fall to Barry’s side and immediately pulls the boy closer, not even thinking about the mess they just made. They could get clean sheets tomorrow, and there’s no way in hell he’s not going to drag Barry into the shower with him once they catch their breaths. 

“You know, I’m about twenty years older than you.” Bruce says, planting a kiss to the top of Barry’s forehead, “Please tell me you see why calling me ‘ _Babe_ ’ is a tad bit weird.” 

“Oh, I do see,” Barry chuckles, trailing patterns across Bruce’s chest. “But you liked it anyway.”


End file.
